The Mistle and the Toe
by Haikoui
Summary: AU, before Mal's death. Cobb is tired of Miles's insistence on going to a ball with his wife thrown by a university in Paris. There's a student under a mistletoe. Surely that could only lead to trouble. D/A, slight Cobb x Mal, Arthur x OC, Eames x drinks.


**Title: **The Mistle and the Toe

**Author: **Haikoui

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Inception. How many times must I keep saying that this AMAZING piece of art belongs to Christopher Nolan?

**Summary: **AU, before Mal's death. Dom Cobb is tired of his father-in-law's insistence on going to the ball thrown by a university in Paris and attends it with his wife. He runs into a student under a mistletoe. Surely that could only lead to trouble. D/A, slight Cobb x Mal, Arthur x OC and Eames x drinks.

* * *

"You look wonderful," said Mal, straightening his tie and pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. "I think I'll be having a hard time sharing you tonight."

"And I think I'll be having a hard time actually dancing with anyone else," Cobb answered honestly, watching himself in the mirror. "First, you look beautiful. Second, they're all students and far too young. I would never dance with them."

Mal pursed her lips and shrugged into a warm fur coat. "Oh, Dom," she sighed. "Have a little fun every once in a while. Do yourself a favor and enjoy yourself."

"You're forgetting I never really wanted to go, sweetheart," the man replied, slipping into his own jacket.

They left the hotel and drove up to the university, finding it very difficult to find a parking space. Cobb found himself staring out into the horde of students, and the thought of his two angels, Phillipa and James, intruded in his mind. They'd left them back with their grandmother for the night. When they would grow up, would they find the time to go to such silly events?

"Finally," said Mal, pulling into a spot. They left the car, squeezing past the students and finally, they enter the building, which was very frigid. It was decorated intricately in time for Christmas, with branches of holly dangling from the walls and the ceiling, and various artificial evergreens sprinkled all around them. There was a white powder falling from the ceiling, and Cobb realized that it was fake snow, which was why the university was freezing cold.

"I see Miles!" Mal told him, laughing, pointing in the direction of the least amount of concentrated students. "Oh, and dear Arthur! And Eames!"

Miles looked pleasantly surprised to see Mal and Cobb hurrying toward them, and Arthur looked downright horrified. The young man had a pretty brunette hanging off his arm and he quickly excused himself for a dance, avoiding their eyes. Eames balanced a glass of champagne on his pinky.

As Mal turned to chat amiably with her father, Eames said nonchalantly, "The Christmas parties here sure are amazing, aren't they?"

Cobb eyed the students warily. "Yes. Very."

Eames took a long gulp from his drink. "Arthur dragged me here, just so you know. He insisted it was because Josephine probably more interested in me than him. Which is prolly true, don't-cha think?" He slurred the last few words and leaned back against the wall. "But she's nothin', really." Eames heaved a large yawn.

The older man looked back amongst the students, spotting Arthur dancing uncomfortably with the brunette named Josephine, who kept glancing back at them, making odd and somewhat roguish gestures with her eyelashes.

Suddenly, Mal was right beside Cobb and she breathed, "I'll be right back, honey. I'm going to get a drink. Would you want one?"

"Someone needs to be sober enough to drive home," said Cobb, shooting a glare at Eames, who giggled at the swishing of his wine in his glass.

"Suit yourself." Mal shrugged and left, her hips swinging as she walked through the crowd. Eyes turned to follow her and Cobb suddenly felt annoyed.

"Where're ya goin', dahlin'?" inquired Eames drunkenly, leaning heavily on the wall, as Cobb suddenly headed away from him and Miles, who was now chatting with a student of his. "Bathroom," he answered tightly.

Eames offered no retort and Cobb left for the very lavishly decorated restrooms, which were completely empty, to his utmost pleasure. Thank _god._

He leaned against the door of a stall and breathed in deeply. He _hated_ these events. It was so public and he wasn't a public person. He was anything but public. Cobb was tired of it. After staying in the bathroom for what he deemed as five or more minutes, he flushed the toilet, left the stall, washed his hands, and left the restroom.

He could see Eames in a stupor by Miles and Arthur, who had quit dancing with Josephine and was now trying to hold Eames from slumping over his shoulder and falling asleep on top of him. Mal wasn't with them, and so Cobb didn't want to go back there. Maybe he'd head for the high balcony…

Sure enough, that was where he found himself the next minute. He wished he were alone, but of course, there just happened to be another student of the university. Thankfully she wasn't as revealingly dressed as the others, which gave him something less to detest about these places.

Cobb leaned over the balcony and stared at the scenery. He adored Paris. It was too bad he didn't live here all the time. There was one particular building he liked but he never learned the name of. It just seemed to ring with him, and –

"Oh, you like that one too?" said the student.

Cobb jumped slightly and turned, seeing the student moving closer to him and leaning over the railing as well. "Sorry," she apologized, grinning. "I just haven't seen someone look at architecture so passionately before, just like me. It kind of sticks out."

The slight state of shock he felt passed on. "Ah," he said, and all of a sudden, he felt better about being here. "Definitely. I love architecture."

The student nodded. "That's my favorite." She pointed to the one he'd been admiring before. "It's nice to see someone with similar tastes, too."

She turned to face him completely, and though he was right about the clothing, she was a student who could pull off looking good without revealing two thirds of her skin. Too bad the lighting on the balcony was dark.

"Say, I haven't seen you before," she said, cocking her head to the side. "Are you a student?"

"I'm a friend of Professor Miles," said Cobb. "Son-in-law, actually."

Had he imagined it? She looked slightly crestfallen. The look disappeared before he could decipher it and a smile took its place. "He's my favorite teacher," she said, turning back to the scenery before them.

She stood silently for a minute, before moving back from the railing and walking back to the entrance of the high balcony. "Well, it was nice meeting you, sir."

Cobb smiled. "You've actually provided a source of relief tonight, mademoiselle."

"Oh, I'm not French," she protested. All of a sudden, she looked around her and then back sheepishly at him. She started over back to the balcony and began, "I forgot my purse – "

"I got it," he said, and he picked from the floor of the balcony. She'd stopped where she was, under the entrance of the high balcony, and he marched over to her.

"Thank you," she breathed. The lighting here was even dimmer, and he cursed it silently. He wished he could see her face.

Suddenly, she lifted her face and looked above them. On the ceiling of the entrance of the high balcony was a small but intricately woven mistletoe. He could see her swallow.

He was tired of staying the same all the time. He was tired of these balls and he was tired of only living his life out in dreams. He couldn't help himself. "Tradition calls for it, miss," he said. He was careful not to call her mademoiselle. She wasn't French, after all. She lowered her head back to him and he leaned closer. He knew that he just had to lean a bit closer –

– he didn't have to, though. She closed the distance and the kiss was soft. She was sweet and she tasted like strawberries. She was petite and on instinct, Cobb drew his hand up behind her neck and pulled her closer. She tasted refreshing, and she was gentle, so unlike Mal –

Mal!

He pulled away like a bullet and she whimpered, nearly tipping over from the lack of a stable hold. Cobb stepped away from the student and ran his left hand through his hair in distress. He saw (based on what he _could_ see from the lack of light) her eyes widen at the sight of his glimmering wedding ring, and she gulped again.

"S-sorry." Her voice was timid. "I – I didn't register it when you said 'son-in-law,' earlier…"

Cobb exhaled heavily. "It's okay. It's my fault too." The sight of her, so small and dejected, stirred something inside of him. He moved toward her once more and lifted her chin up with his hand.

He placed a gentle kiss on her lips once more, tasting the strawberries, and then pulled away. "Twice for luck." He smiled at her. "Goodnight, miss."

She smiled back, regaining some of her confidence, and responded evenly, "To you too, sir."

He was about to leave when he whirled around suddenly. She was still there under the mistletoe.

"What's your name?" he called.

"Ariadne." Her voice echoed through the entrance.

"Like the Greek myth?"

He could barely see her nod.

"I'm Dominic," he said. He might as well not tell her his nickname. It wasn't like they would see each other again. "Goodnight, Ariadne. Keep looking at those buildings."

"I will. Goodnight, Dominic," she called back.

He marched through the halls back to the main event, where there was still a mass of dancing students and a now unconscious Eames, leaning precariously against Arthur. "My date ditched me. And Eames," Arthur explained, looking pained. "Honestly, Eames is a dick."

Eames mumbled incoherently on Arthur's shoulder. There was a tap on Cobb's own shoulder and he turned to see Mal smile lightly at him. "I think we've had enough for one night, don't you think?" She wavered slightly and Cobb could tell she had a more than one glass of wine.

"Let's go home," Cobb told his wife. Arthur sighed gratefully and the three of them bid goodnight to Miles. Cobb ended up driving all four of them home (because Eames was unconscious in the back seat with Arthur, Arthur was too tired to do any driving, and Mal was giggling happily at French Christmas carols on the radio).

That night, in bed, Mal fell asleep the instant her head hit the pillow. Cobb, on the other hand, took his time and his mind ran over the events that evening. What an evening.

He still hated balls like these.

Sometimes he wished all of them were as spontaneous as this one.

He could still taste the strawberries.

* * *

**I feel bad for Mal now.**

**Darn.**

**And I know this was kinda odd. Haha.**

**Merry Christmas, everyone! I love you all :D**


End file.
